Drifter
by SnowLion no Miko
Summary: When Neji dreams, he pictures unique, vivid, pink hair and large emerald eyes. He dreams of her and knows that she couldn't be farther from his reach. NejiSaku, oneshot, drabbleish


_**Disclaimer: **__I don't own Naruto!_

_**Summary: When Neji dreams, he pictures unique, vivid, pink hair and large emerald eyes. He dreams of her and knows that she couldn't be farther from his reach. NejiSaku, oneshot, drabbleish**_

_Just a little NejiSaku ficlet. It can be taken as a...hm..."apology" for not updating my other fics as often as I should. I'm so sorry! Updates will be coming!_

_Anyway, please enjoy this!_

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**Drifter**

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Sometimes, Neji dreams.

He dreams, he drifts. He tries to flee to a place where he is able to accept his feelings. Where he is able to say them out loud. Without guilt. Without remorse. He floats to a place where his heart is free to feel for the girl what he had never felt for anyone before.

Neji dreams of a little pink haired genin with large innocent eyes who knows nothing about the ninja way. A girl who is so innocent and delicate that just to touch her is a feat in itself without breaking her glass edges. His imagery of her evolves from that long haired girly girl into the strong, proud chuunin she has become today. Now, the delicate glass is more like broken shards of the same substance, if touched, you get cut and bleed and bleed... She knows this, and keeps her distance, he figures.

It is an awe-inspiring change.

From the girl who always cried out for her "Sasuke-kun" to the girl she is now...the girl who can barely utter his name without her large eyes hardening, without her fists clenching and her teeth baring dangerously, it is a huge change. Whether it is an improvement is anyone's guess.

Her evolution from the weak minded, romance-focused girl to the young woman she is now was a work in progress. Neji remembers seeing her after her encounter with Orochimaru's sound-nin in the deadly forest. He remembers how broken she looked, how exhausted and tired she was... The deep cuts and scrapes on her body, as well as her hastily cropped hair seemed to signify the change that was about to take place.

In his mind, on that day, he knew he would never find anyone more beautiful.

It has been proven to him time and time again with her actions and strong words and determination and beauty that he would never encounter anyone as breathtaking as Haruno Sakura.

Not only is the prominent medic-nin physically attractive, but her personality...the way that she talks with such kindness and passion and intelligence...her determination, her whole journey to where she is now...everything about her is something Neji admires.

All these things make him love the woman.

Yes...

_Love_.

Strange as it sounds, Neji is a romantic underneath that indifferent facade.

The word is bitter on his mind. Bitter, yet sweet.

He _loves _her.

And yet, he can do nothing about it.

So Neji dreams.

He dreams of holding her in his arms, smelling her sweet hair, kissing her plump lips. Neji dreams of lifting her in his arms and carrying her after a rough battle after which she can hardly stand. He dreams of being with her always. Neji dreams of making love to her, kissing every plane and curve of her slender form with passion and care as they become one, and as she moans his name against the skin of his neck, her breath misting against his cheek, legs wrapping around him.

He dreams...

Neji dreams of her, quite easily, every night. He sees her pink hair, spiked ever-so-slighty without even having to try; her emerald green eyes, sparkling with innocence and womanhood all at the same time; that brilliant, pearly grin and the slight paleness of her skin; her slender, muscular physique. He knows every detail of her. Neji knows it is hopelessly pathetic to know a woman this much, but what can a man in love do but try to memorize every detail, every inch of her that he can, to commit it to memory. After all, a shinobi's life can be cut tragically short. But that also makes the Hyuuga youth treasure every glance, every conversation, every touch with her.

_"Hyuuga-san, you need to be more careful..." _She said one day after examining him. The medic was always polite to him, no matter the circumstances.

_"Yes,"_ He had replied with a nod, genuinely touched by her concern.

It had been one of many short, but meaningful, exchanges that defined their relationship.

There were times when she would laugh casually after a comment he made and touch his arm tenderly. Her touches, when they occurred, would always send him into a mind-muddled state that confused him and left him bewildered at what just happened.

There were also times when their eyes would lock, and Neji would swear on his life that he - as cheesy as it sounds to him - felt a spark, as well as she.

But, of course, that's all an illusion, right?

Most likely.

And, as he lays in his bed even now with some anonymous kunoichi he used to fill the hole in his chest left by his feelings eating away at him, he drifted.

Her arm was draped over his waist, face nuzzled in his neck, and he couldn't help but imagine that it was Sakura he was feeling so close to him.

He was becoming a prisoner to his imagination, and he knew it.

_Sakura. _He thought the name with the familiar pang resonating in his chest, wondering if she was thinking of him, too.

Neji knew he was no better than his love-struck cousin; this realization brought a bitter smirk to his lips as he stared out the open window.

_"Hyuuga-san..."_

Her voice was as clear and loud as if she had been in the same room with him, but he knew it wasn't possible, as much as he would like for it to be. Neji knew the sound of her voice was just a product of his mind, recalling the many times she'd said his name. This, too, he had memorized, locked away in the back of his skull, not willing to forget the pleasant tone of the Haruno woman's voice.

The woman beside him stirs, groans, and pulls him closer, pressing her bare breasts against him. The feel of her hardened nipples grazing the soft flesh of his back causes him to elict a somewhat surprised and uncomfortable sound from his lips. This time the illusion of Sakura is so strong that he has to restrain himself right then and there.

He gently pries the kunoichi's hands from around his waist and rises, walking to the window. The breeze was a gentle caress against his skin, cooling his body and making him feel somewhat at ease. For a moment, ivory orbs lock onto a flash of pink, but dismiss it as a product of his hopes...the hopes that seem to crush him and excite him all at the same time.

Thoughts of Sakura flood his mind as he braces himself against the open window frame.

_Sakura._

His heart thuds heavily underneath the lead that seems to be encasing it.

_Thump, thump._

_"Hyuuga-san."_

The sound of her voice clouds his head, distracting him before he grasps his bare chest.

It was strange to say he felt like they were calling out to each other. Strange, and most likely a result from his unrequited feelings.

He ducks his head, brunette mane falling in his face, Sakura's image never leaving him.

So he closes his eyes.

And dreams.

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_**End.**_

_Well, there ya go! My first new piece in a while. Gosh...I'm really sorry that I haven't updated hardly anything. Oh my...I really need to get to that. I just really can't bring myself to sit down and just write! I'm a victim of "short attention span issues". Yes, not really, but I just had to verify my reason for not updating. But on a brighter note, the new chapter of "Sketches" will be up next!_

_Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed it! And please review! _

_Arigato!_


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